


Fields Aflame

by bos10blonde



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, No Spoilers, Non-speaking Runner Five, Oblique references to NPC death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26200057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bos10blonde/pseuds/bos10blonde
Summary: One of Runner Five's favorite memories from a supply run that wasn't a total tragedy.
Kudos: 5





	Fields Aflame

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fic written - and actually completed! - during a Zombies, Make! challenge and slightly edited before posting here. Please check out the #zombies make tag on Tumblr to find the wonderful hosts of the challenge, the photo that was the prompt, and the other amazing works it generated. Thank you so much for providing inspiration!

Zombies, Make! Day 3, Round 1, Prompt 2

**Fields Aflame**

Anybody who has ever done a significant amount of trail running will tell you that sometimes, the scenery can mean a difference between a rough run and a great memory. Any person that has ever unironically felt wanderlust, or planned to climb a mountain for fun, or taken a road trip somewhere they have never seen before, will gladly tell you about seeing something they will never forget.

Runner Five was no different. In their time at Abel, especially, they’d seen so many things that had etched themselves into their mind like photos on the back of their eyelids. A great many of those things were awful, terrible memories that she would have given anything to prevent–too many friends bloodied and buried, too many signs of a world past the edge of collapse. But there are points of light in any field of darkness, and Five clung to those happy moments to get her through all the ones in between. One of Five’s absolute favorite memories seemed so ordinary, they didn’t talk about it often, but it was one they returned to often in quieter moments.

Five had been returning to Abel Township from a particularly unpleasant and exhausting scouting mission. There had been no less than three packs of zombies on their tail at various points that they’d had to sprint to escape, there been very little to scavenge at the target warehouse Janine had been hoped might have some supplies, and Five had accidentally stumbled upon the gory aftermath of a recent zombie meal. Five’s shoulders were slumped in unhappiness for most of the return leg, and even Sam’s voice came tense and tired over the comms.

To keep their mind off things, Five tried to focus on their surroundings as they left the crowded buildings of the town and began the final trek over the fields towards Abel. The coast seemed clear of zoms at the moment, so they followed an old potholed country road that was crumbling at the edges where it met the encroaching grassy swells. It was rare for runners to take this particular route, but that tended to happen with scouting missions to new locations. It was an easy run from here, so Five let their legs take over and their gaze wander.

It was late spring; still warm and sunny enough that the brim of Five’s baseball cap was damp with sweat, but not terribly uncomfortable. The route was gently hilly, a sprawling patchwork of farms and untamed fields. Five was surrounded on both sides with tall grasses that reached almost to their shoulders. Long, thin blades of silvery-green moved gently in the occasional wind. Five could see each gust before they could feel it, a line of bowed plants moving across the fields like watching the white-foamed crest of a wave approaching a seashore. Five squinted against the gust to avoid getting dust in their eyes while the grasses whispered hoarsely against one another. When Five reached out to trail their fingers through a nearby bank of grass, the blades felt rough and dryly sticky, as if they each plant was trying to hold their fingertips there.

The empty fields were dull and repetitive despite the bright sunlight. Every once in a while, there were fragments of color—usually scraggly plants with yellow or red or white flowers along the side of the road. Poppies, Queen Anne’s lace, buttercups…Five guessed at names half-remembered from the survival guides they’d skimmed a few times. Usually, a dozen bright blooms clustered together in a bunch, although each plant usually stood starkly alone. It reminded Five of Abel and New Canton and the other pockets of survivors—holding on together in small groups but separated by stretches of a dangerous road.

At Sam’s direction, Five turned left and took a smaller road off the one they’d been running on. The hills were getting steeper and more undulating, and Five had the vague sense that Abel was on the other side of a particularly large hill they were now headed straight towards. Grumbling slightly at the incline, Five cast their eyes around to check for zombie movement. Luckily, it was clear that there was none—Five was running through a farm that appeared to be well-maintained and their sightlines were clear. Hundreds of heads of some dark, leafy vegetable were huddled together in tight, orderly rows as far as they could see. Five tried to guess what crop they might be (Kale? Romaine?), thinking of how Abel could incorporate them into their often-limited menu if they traded with this farm. Rows of deep, dark, glossy green alternated with a comfortingly rich-looking earth, making a pattern of stripes that were almost hypnotic to run through. The rows were planted on a diagonal to the road, and if Five angled their head _just so_ …it was reminiscent of watching out the windows of a car or a train with the scenery whipping by, back when that was an everyday part of life.

The farm was small, however, and the hill absolutely looming, so Five’s temporary reverie didn’t last very long before their leg muscles began loudly protesting that they were having to work harder now. Five put their head down, focusing on keeping their breath from getting too heavy and pushing off with each step to fight the extra pull of gravity. They were so focused on the effort that when they finally crested the hill, the sight laid out before them came as a shock.

Spreading out before them was a riot of color blanketing the entire hillside. For a moment, all Five could see was an overwhelming sense of bright yellow, and they startled for a split second, thinking the field was on fire. But no—the hillside below and to the right of them was absolutely covered in flowers. Every inch Five could see was alight with all the warm tones ever found in a sunset, from buttery yellows to soft peachy reds and citrusy oranges so bright that the blooms drowned out the stems and stalks supporting them. _Breathtaking_ came to mind, and not just because Five had run uphill to see it.

Against all their training, Five slowed their steps as they kept moving down the hill.

“Wow,” Sam said in their ear. “Would you look at that. That’s just…well, that’s just really beautiful, isn’t it, Five?”

Five nodded emphatically, knowing Sam would see the feed from their head camera bob up and down in response. Another gust of wind buffeted Five’s back, and the movement really made it look like the field was aflame. Each rounded blossom danced merrily in a spinning waltz multiplied a hundred thousand times as every single flower joined in the fun. Five knew they should be looking around and keeping an eye out for zoms but just couldn’t tear their gaze away. For just a moment, they paused to fully absorb the sight. It was as close to a visual depiction of happiness as Five had ever seen, and they wanted to remember every detail they could. Of course, it couldn’t last too long, but just for a moment, they could pretend that this was all there was to the world now.

Sam allowed a pause before gently breaking into their reverie. “’Right, now, Five, it’s not very far back to Abel now—just around that bend at the bottom of the hill you’ll be back in camera range again. Back in the old stomping grounds, yeah? Best not to hang about too long. Scanners are clear of any swarms, but there could always be the odd straggler zom or two out there.”

Five nodded again and turned their gaze to watch where they were running, picking up the pace to get back to the showers and dinner they knew would be waiting at home. As they followed the curve away from the field of flowers, Five could practically feel warmth and joy radiating from behind them. Five held on to that image—a photo in their mind’s eye of a hill bursting with life in one of its simplest and most beautiful forms—for the rest of the run and for many more to come.

Sam would also remember that moment from his perspective behind the camera feed, but not as fondly. Whenever Five talked about it, Sam always claimed the flowers must not have had as much of an impact when viewed on a screen rather than in person. He’d usually deflect quickly, talking about the farm Five had passed on the way that had become a valuable trading partner or about the latest incredible stunt Five had pulled off. Sam never told anyone about the zombie crawler he’d spotted halfway down the hill and to Five’s right, dragging itself by its hand through a dense clump of flowers and moving towards the road. He never asked Five if they had seen it, too. Let Five have this one memory, untainted by constant fear and danger, he decided. There was more than enough ugliness in the world now, and scarce enough beauty that could compare to that field aflame with flowers on a clear spring day.


End file.
